Brightly Blue
by palomapress
Summary: I had never been one to strive for anything less than perfection, didn't even nod at it as it calmly passed me in these halls. Being born into a faction in which such perfection was upheld was not what kept me in it. What held me in place was the ability to exercise curiosities. In this very moment, I was very curious. AU - EricxOC - Slow Burn - M
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you could, will, and should recognize : )

chapter i

* * *

 **ER·U·DITE** (adjective): having or showing great knowledge, or (affinity for) learning; origins in latin _rudis_ for "rude, untrained" later _erudis_ for "instruct, train," ending in _erudite_ in late Middle English.

Andrea Charr had eyed the definition once in a school book. She had needed to engrave it in at a young age, and soon she knew no truer way of being. She saw her faction clearly, with its ugly, rigid roots that consistently sprouted fruitful intellect. Erudite was a living, breathing organism which eloquently pranced in front of the other factions. They kept the others in line. Grotesque history was behind them, a firm 'thank you' owed to the factions that dichotomized the different psychologies at work. They each served their purpose, and weighed each other out.

The other children were not as impressed - with her, nor with learning, yet she never waned in her loyalty to her faction. Nothing brought her more pride than eagerly raising an arm to correctly answer a question, for she had spent hours the night before reading, always one step ahead. She did waver slightly, however, teeming with boredom when well aimed spit balls and whispered _know-it-all's_ served to keep all the other children entertained at her expense.

So, when she eagerly penned in Tuesday, March 4th at 8:00 AM into her schedule, she knew in her mind that there was no question what the Aptitude results would be. There was no anxiety, she would later chose and be surrounded by like-minded individuals. Her parents had greeted her promptly two hours before she left, complimenting her on her sharp dress and punctuality. Their "Blue Light" would chose correctly, and bleed for Erudite.

She had walked calmly through the sea of students, all varying ages of 18, some colorful, some dreary. Never skipping a beat she kept her head up, meeting the eyes of whom those she could. Lined up behind what she supposed were her equals, she waited for her name to be called. She spent the next long moments in contemplation, only distracted by the sounds of the rushing train. She knew it was scheduled for 15 minutes before eight, and that it would bring whooping and yells. The Dauntless would soon be rushing by kicking up puffs of dirt into the air and cutting it close on time. She wondered if the train slowed for them to disembark.

No doubt they'd annoy the Erudite with their wild abandon for order, Abnegation would shy away from such shows of free will, Candor would whisper biased rumors, and Amity would…probably be looking at the puffs of dirt and marveling at the beauty that was the earth responding. The last one was the most interesting she supposed, the earth _did_ respond beautifully.

As other names were called, Andrea grew impatient - the Aptitude Tests brewing conflicted thoughts. On a black to white spectrum, the test could be said to be wasteful. Everyone should be aware of their whimsies, they should be able to make an gut decision without being told. Those who did not know themselves were the weakest in their society. Of course, on the other side, those unsure needed a guide and at such a tender age, who were they really?

She smoothed out a wrinkle in her pencil skirt, which was a tad looser due to a slight drop in her body mass index. She would have these tailored, the fabric she had chosen was not forgiving to slight differences. The simulation had been uncomfortable, and that was all she remembered. At the end, she sat facing a somber Abnegation woman who read her results. A nod and slight smile later, she stood from the metal chair, heading back home to inform her parents.

' _Erudite,'_ the woman had said.

Did they really need to look so sad?

* * *

Why give up the Self in _Abnegation,_ when the acknowledgement of the Self is what drove unobscured intellect?

Why wander aimlessly in _Amity_ , when one could have the expansive fields of the mind to run through?

Why break spines in _Dauntless_ , when one can calmly peruse spines in libraries?

Why push the truth onto others in _Candor_ , when one does so with a human bias and not with empirical data?

* * *

The Choosing Ceremony came and went.

Initiation came and went.

She remained Erudite.

* * *

That year she was offered a myriad of jobs as the top initiate. She accepted a primary investigator role in the department of Research for Psychological and Sociological Advancement, allowing her curiosity to spark up new experiments. She choose to start with behavioral modifications, recording and testing basic patterns; a subjects' color preference, reactions to sound, just to name a few. Her research papers were readily published, though they were often overshadowed by the constant reporting on Abnegation.

She had 'broken the mold' as her father stated, for she had not only been cleared to study children and adults in Erudite, but also to test others within the different factions. The results had lasting consequences for Candor, with the mouthpiece of Erudite used as a reason to revise standardized testing. Unexpectedly exposing slight flaws in what Candor previously correlated with body language, it shredded established processes when searching out fibs and truths. This won her appeasement from her faction, anger from Candor. She understood their resistance to her work, the possibility of exception fallacy could be at play; she never did chose her subjects, and they never did seem like random selections. She soon grew bored with the stagnation Candor brought into her research, as they began series of cabals, followed by conferences to halt the ongoing findings. Erudite gave into their protests, and she made the choice to leave the department instead of working within such tight confines.

Johnathan Charr was the head of Future Technologies, a community of engineers. The fact that the remaining jobs in her faction did not spark her interest lead her to proudly accept a job alongside her father. The promotion offered the same ties to rigorous research and subtle psychologies, and she settled into Advancement of Intellectual Warfare. Her new title afforded her great challenges, being the first woman Head Weapons Engineer. It seemed that in this male dominated field, she was the only one willing to endure back-handed compliments on her achievement. Endure she did, as well as deftly shut them down. She never quite knew what drew her to the subject matter, other than her affinity for learning new subjects, especially those that were non normative. Bringing home weapons and studying them for hours was also an interesting dynamic for her.

 _Why let Dauntless have all the exciting fun?_

* * *

Thank you for reading!

\- PalomaPress.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you could, will, and should recognize.

chapter ii

* * *

She pushed for an even split, gliding through the well-watered blades of grass surrounding Erudite Headquarters. She noted that it was time to be fitted for a new pair of trainers - she was pronating on the right too much for her liking. Jacob would tell her she was being overly critical again, but she couldn't risk injury. Being covered in blue tones never did fully calm here such as running did.

The sunlight began to break through as she reached her home, breathing even as she had started her cooling phase at exactly a quarter of a mile before. Tossing her sweat soaked clothing in the linen basket, she set a reminder to send out them out for a wash. She would soon run out of everything. A expertly cooked breakfast of eggs and fruit served to provide essential vitamins and protein to replenish. She opted for water, as she found that the traditional soda only served to slow down her runs.

Pulling her brown hair into a tight, high ponytail, she smoothed out the wayward hairs near her temples with a spare toothbrush - a trick used on ballerinas, she had learned during some light reading. Her custom blue pencil skirt landed softly in fitted curves, slits on either side, a detail she was proud of. Her raw white linen button down allowed for some breathability in the summer sun. She'd look perfect for this mornings meeting.

Jeanine Matthews, her unofficial partner and mouthpiece of Erudite, had called for the meeting with three Dauntless leaders. She had been formally introduced, formally scrutinized by said leaders, and formally intrigued, all within the first few minutes. Walking in she had felt their eyes, fizzling her blue light, and she wondered if they expected something else. She was aware of new serums being tested for Erudite thanks to willing participants of Dauntless, which brought her much excitement, and thus brought the two factions closer together. Though serums where not her department, Jacob enjoyed catching her up with the parts which were free for him to discuss. Advancement for advancement sake was thoroughly gratifying.

She took her place next to Jeanine, who was situated in the middle of the conference table, to her left Jacob, Jeanine's Lead Serums Researcher. Disagreements with Cara had led to her being knocked down a peg, Jacob thus being promoted and privy to most meetings alongside Jeanine. The silence in the meeting room stretched, Jeanine looking over a set of reports handed over to her by one of the leaders. Max asks gruffly if the meeting could get going.

"Jacob, is it? What can you do to make our weaponry more effective?" Max looks expectantly at Jacob.

"Personally, nothing." Jacob responds, causing a small smile to grace my face.

The look that appears on Max's handsome, albeit tired face confirms her suspicions. He confuses the male in the room as the weapons master, and her as Cara's replacement. Established patterns in humans are usually always the same, rigid and boring. With a small sigh she lets it sink in for him. They're the brave faction, their reaction times should be tested. The three males collectively turn towards her, and piece together that she holds that title, here to study and improve weapons to help protect their great city.

"I am the Lead Weapons Engineer, do you have the additional reports requested?" She states, light amusement laced in her tone, cutting to the point.

They were expected to present detailed observations of their current weaponry, ranging anywhere from guns to daggers, Jeanine had left the parameters of the report somewhat elusive. They were mostly focused on the accuracy for new initiates, as the Choosing Ceremony was upon them yet again. Jeanine had boosted that Dauntless were finally ready to take their initiation to another level. The leader sitting directly across from her, Josiah, is as Dauntless as they come. His glare is arctic as he hands her what she assumes is his report, sliding it just short so she has to reach across the table to pull it towards her. This causes him to smirk, allowing his features to become even less inviting.

The silence comes again, with both her and Jeanine studying the sheets in front of reports had been requested a week before the meeting, which had obviously not been met. After a few moments, she can't help but feel the frustration bubble up, only shielded by the knowledge that Erudite do not grow impatient, they find a way to curb emotional responses to something more logical and restrictive. Swallowing, she lightly clears her throat, bringing her eyes to meet Josiah. He appears bored, hands splayed on top of the glass, shoulders pulled down his back in an active, yet relaxed pose. She could knock that out of him.

"I don't understand this, Josiah." She tells him, and notes the satisfaction his features show, thinking that he has the upper hand against a 'know-it-all.'

"That's odd, no? For a Know-It-All," he laughs, clapping Max on the back. Eric who sits next to Max smirks, clearly as amused. Jeanine is giving her a speculative look, questioning her, eyes on the side of her face asking her to shift towards her so she can address the issue.

"It's not odd in the slightest, this is riddled with grammatical errors which makes it a waste of time to read," she flips the pages towards him, pointing at the first paragraph, "I believe you meant 'bad,' and not 'gag,' correct?"

Josiah's anger helps match his face to his hair color, as he starts to rise in his chair to protest at being called out. Max places a hand on his large bicep, tightly brining him down back into his chair. She smiles lightly, and feels Jeanine's shoulders drop down a millimeter, proud that she has caught the mistakes. She mused that was Jeanine's favorite part in working with her.

"There will be no need to rewrite the reports, Josiah, if that is what you're upset about," Jeanine has finally spoken up, and Josiah lets some relief show. Handing the reports she probably re-read two or three times in the short amount of time to Jacob, she proceeds to do what she does best. Multi-task, and catch people off guard.

"Andrea will be the in-house Weapons Engineer at the Dauntless compound, for as long as necessary, to observe and re-design as needed. I expect all leadership and trainers to go through her with status reports and verbal observations."

 _What?_

Andrea gives a firm nod towards Max, who looked annoyed. An Erudite staying at the Dauntless Compound?

"I expect to start the process in a week. You can expect me between today and that time to look at what living quarters are available, and what will need to be modified for my stay." She looked at Jeanine, face showing no emotion or discomfort at being caught unaware. She at least gained the upper hand in stating her terms, and start date.

The decision on Jeanine's part was logical, the reports from Dauntless were obviously not going to get better, and seeing the new initiates handle weaponry would be beneficial. She'd miss Erudite, miss running alongside the morning sun, miss Jacob. Nodding at the leaders, she pens in her start day, and takes her leave.

* * *

"Were you aware of Jeanine's plan to send you over to Dauntless?" Pause.

"How will you maneuver in that snake maze?" Pause.

"Did you see the way Josiah looked at you?" Pause.

"What a savage."

I wasn't sure if I was speaking out loud, or if Jacob was somehow channeling my thoughts and projecting them down the corridor we were currently in. The afternoon sun shined bright, the glass walls of Erudite allowing for maximum exposure to such a great source of Vitamin D. Of course, I took in Vitamin D3 daily, as studies had shown the glowing orb outside was not enough.

I turned towards Jacob, body language telling him to stop in his tracks, and listen.

"No, I was not aware - the decision was quick for Jeanine, and a logical one at that." I didn't think addressing 'maneuvering in a snake maze' or the way Josiah tried to turn my bones into frozen icicles that could slice through my skin was necessary. The imagery it conjured seemed messy.

"I have a week left at Erudite, so I would appreciate setting a meeting for some design work," I had a feeling I'd need to ramp up my athletic gear. Despite excelling at clothing that provided mobility and comfort through hours of research and mental work, Erudite was not known for athleticism, leaving the arena of athletic wear wanting. In the years of knowing Jacob, his love of clothing design and my love of research faired well.

"Yes! That would be exciting, great thinking Andrea," he beamed at me.

"We could meet at 6 tonight, I'll start the sketches after my last meeting." I wanted to read a few texts on Dauntless, hopefully it would prove fruitful in choosing the correct fabrics and cuts in order to survive their environment. The small knowledge I held of the Dauntless was of coldness and sweat. I'd probably need a jumper or two.

* * *

Jeanine had taken her leave of us a few hours ago, yet she remained on my mind throughout the day. There was no other discussion on her promoting me to oversee an entire faction, not even a post-conference discussion on logistics. It seemed rather lopsided for Jeanine. Perhaps she felt that a future blueprint was ineffective at this point.

I knew that in choosing a faction to remain in for the rest of our lives at 18, when we barely knew ourselves was irrational. My expertise and knowledge base had caught Jeanine's attention, and under supervision I had not been aware of, she chose me as a sort of right-hand once the Dauntless-Erudite collaboration began. Just as she invented and believed in the Aptitude Test at textbook adulthood, she believed she did not have to hold my 23 year old hands in this new task. I supposed the partnership title I held with her was enough for her. No pressure.

I wondered what an Erudite was meant to do whilst not tasking at Dauntless - would I eat alongside them? A speck of blue light engulfed in a sea of black and red? Though the questions and projected answers that ran through my head brought a level of anxiety no amount of running was able to take care of, the prospect of starting this new project was exciting.

For I had never been one to strive for anything less than perfection, didn't even nod at it as it calmly passed me in these halls. Being born into a faction in which such perfection was upheld was not what kept me in it. What held me in place was the ability to exercise curiosities. In this very moment, I was very curious.

* * *

The week came and went, much as life tends to do. She had been over to the Compound, and was presented with three apartments that were vacant. To say that lower Dauntless, those not in the "top five," lived in a cave was an understatement. The darkness they thrived under was a shock to her system, driving her to multiply her orders of supplements by ten-fold. The timeline of her stay was unknown, causing her to demand the retainment of her solar powered vehicle, another arrangement needed to be accommodated by Dauntless. They possessed some storage areas, which she would have the climb down the winding stairs and jagged rocks to get to. The upside would be the low probability of her need to leave, as she had essentials on a monthly delivery system.

The accommodations only served to annoy the Dauntless leadership, thus giving her a glance onto what she could and could not get away with. She forewent any mention of installing a dishwasher in her new apartment, nor did she mention she preferred sheer linen over the black-out curtains currently obstructing her golden orb. In all, she could not complain. The apartment she was allowed to inhibit was large, open-format, and with its corner placement, had two of the four walls made up of floor to ceiling black-paned glass. The kitchen was slick, with marble countertops in its raw form, adding a level of danger in the event she got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water.

She had requested simple comforts be brought from Erudite, her bookcases with vertical placements of books on varieties of subjects. Fiction, non-fiction, even some Art History and Architecture coffee table books she had found in a local shop. Her lighter bed clothes, kitchen appliances, the essentials. Jeanine ensured she was properly set up with technology, her study area graced by a Spanish table, its dark mahogany serving as a catcher for the transparent dual-screens floating above it. The table was of sentimental value for her, having found it in an Antiques shop, its history dating back to 1938, before ignorance had engulfed the world.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

\- PalomaPress.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you could, will, and should recognize.

A/N: AU, based on movie.

chapter iii

She kept a quickened pace while at Dauntless. She was mostly motivated by the cooler temperatures to reach destinations faster, and fearful that someone might jump out from one of the corridors. To say that she did not feel welcomed was an understatement. Brushing down a catch in her skirt, perfectly fitted, she reached the meeting rooms where the leaders were. 

A knock fell into an empty room. Opening the door she realized that they were once again late. Whether they did it on purpose, or whether they operated that way was beyond what she cared for. She had a tight schedule, yet in her short week here she began to loosen it. She would need to start operating smarter, perhaps telling them said meetings would be conducted 30 minutes before their actual start. She had once read that that is how people in tropical climates functioned.

She laid out her leather notebook, fine-point pen, and recorder on the metal table. The conference rooms here were like Erudite cleaning closets. Dating the paper as well as verbally on the recorder, she patiently waited and wasn't surprised that Eric was the first to arrive. Out of all the leaders, he was the least forthcoming yet the most punctual.

What does his voice sounds like? She realized she had been staring for some seconds too long, his brow raising as he calmly stared back. A curt nod exchanged between them was the end of their interaction, broken by the door opening with Josiah sauntering in, the smell of dark liquor catching her senses.

"Eric," he nodded at his fellow leader,

"Erudite," he sneered at her. What a salty walnut.

"Josiah, as eloquent as always." She wasn't sure what prompted her to push his buttons, knowing fully that her response was not the norm in her faction. She was meant to once again curtly nod and ignore his foul disposition, getting to the matter at hand.

Eric looked amused, his eyes trained on her face. She glanced at him again, then back at Josiah who had produced a shiny flask and took a big swig. It was barely nine in the morning. On second thought, she hit "visual" on the recorder, allowing for the device to capture video in addition to sound. Jeanine liked thoroughly detailed notes, and something told her these meetings were best catalogued in their entirety.

Max walked in after, and the meeting began. The majority of it involved her informing them that she would start observing initiate training when it came to handling weaponry, and asking permission to touch and do as she saw fit in order to gain information for the re-design, if needed. The Choosing Ceremony was exactly two weeks away.

Rudely interrupted, Josiah chuckled "So," he slurred, earning a glare from Max, "you're asking for our persimmon to feel up the initiates? Max you gonna stand for this?" he laughed again, causing Eric to roll his eyes, catching mine again. He was attractive, and she was quite positive he once belonged in Erudite, it is impossible for Dauntless to be this quite for this long.

"Josiah, at this point I'd ask you to only speak if you have something worthwhile to add," She stated, a stern voice echoing within the small room, its metal embellishments making the silence clinical. He scowls at her, his contempt evident.

"Listen, bitch, I will speak when I want, how I want, got it?" That was slurred too.

Before Max was able to interject, her smart mouth got ahead of her.

"It seems you're under the presumption, no doubt due to your low intelligence, that you can speak to me or any woman in such offensive terms and not be called out on it," I stared him down, my outward confidence not at all matching up to my shaking innards, "but I assure you, you're speaking to one woman who will not tolerate such blatant disrespect." Her pen hurt in her grasp, the tip stabbing into the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger. The only indication that her elegant Erudite composition was at all affected.

"You're in possession of five leaders, are you not Max?" Her gaze did not follow the words, as she held Josiah' glassy eyes, his facial hue finding a way to surpass the red of his hair, "I expect Josiah to be removed, replaced with a competent leader, whom does not stroll in inebriated much less late." Max nods, for as much as this is Dauntless territory, they are dealing with what the new world would one day deem the new leader, Erudite. An Erudite that is in charge of their weapons, the right-hand to Jeanine Matthews.

Loosening the grip on her pen, she gathered her notebook, shut off the recorder, and promptly left the room. She would need to watch her back from now on.

The brisk walk back to the apartment does nothing but raise her endorphins to a teasing level. It is no use ignoring the fact that she is so tightly wound here, with no physical release and no soothing neck and shoulder massages when she's spent too much time rounded over like a soft pencil. There are no comforts here, and for the first time she allows herself to slump onto her leather couch, and cry.

Max seemed to be having trouble. After her stern warning he had been actively trying to procure a leader who would work best in their tight-knit group. While Eric was solid, a yielding source, Josiah served to only delay and make their interactions downright hostile. She had not seen Josiah since that meeting, which unnerved her even more.

She realized that on the first day she had not been given a proper tour of Dauntless. She guessed that wasn't exactly protocol, but since then nothing had stopped; coordinating training schedule visits, tours of the weaponry storage facilities, and situating herself in the new loft took most of her time. She also realized, that she could have cared less…if she weren't so curious by nature.

With great determination, she put on a pair of soft blue chinos, rolled cuffs perfectly paired with tan oxfords. The temperature in the lower cavities of Dauntless were no doubt colder, so she shrugged on a simple jacket that she had designed to whisk away moisture. As of now she was hungry, running low on brain food and protein, and wanted to go see how Dauntless lived day to day.

She ventured out of the loft, locking all three deadbolts. The black door was recessed into the stone corridors, no windows making the area dark even though her wrist watch showed the time to be 11:13 AM. There were two doors next to hers, with a hallway to the left and right that led…somewhere. If she continued forward, more doors would be found. She listened for human sounds, and figured going left was the best way.

Soon she had climbed down some "stairs," narrowly skipping death when she wasn't paying much attention and had mistakingly reached for a handrail. Those she assumed were not known about in Dauntless, much like the Queen Mary before all her passengers got sick and injured. The sounds of buzzing and laughs caught her attention, and she made a right into a room.

The tattoo parlor smelled of rubbing alcohol, a smell she enjoyed if she were completely honest. The artwork that hung on the slim walls were impressive, following a theme of faction worship and fire-breathing animals. She understood the need to permanently mar skin, as it showed solidarity. There seemed to be another room in the distance, but what caught her attention was neither buzzing nor artwork.

A slim woman with long, knotted hair straddled a low stool. She was obviously one of the tattoo artists, her faded black pants and cropped long sleeve top hugged her curves. Andrea noticed the woman had a blue streak in those long tresses. I should go speak with her, she reasoned, for science.

"What are you doing in here?" Oh no. She had completely missed that she had been standing in the middle of the parlor, surrounded by black. It dawned on her that she stuck out like a sore thumb, the odd looks she was receiving from those who knew nothing of her presence made her feel like an insect on display.

How did I miss this?

"Did you go deaf?" She did not recognize the voice. Turning around, her eye level first met two sturdy, voluminous shoulders. His neck adorned in tattooed steps that dared her eyes to climb each one until she reached his eyes,

Eric.

Definitely handsome.

What type of insect would I be?

Thank you for reading!

\- PalomaPress.


	4. Chapter four

_previously…_

"What are you doing in here?" Oh no. She had completely missed that she had been standing in the middle of the parlor, surrounded by black. It dawned on her that she stuck out like a sore thumb, the odd looks she was receiving from those who knew nothing of her presence made her feel like an insect on display.

How did I miss this?

"Did you go deaf?" She did not recognize the voice. Turning around, her eye level first met two sturdy, voluminous shoulders. His neck adorned in tattooed steps that dared her eyes to climb each one until she reached his eyes,

 _Eric._

 _Definitely handsome._

 _What type of insect would I be?_

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you could, will, and should recognize.

A/N: AU, based on movie.

chapter four

* * *

She had realized she was staring into Eric's eyes for moments too long again, making the atmosphere awkward. Well…awkward for her, he seemed just fine, the right corner of his mouth lifted. She gave a small glance around the room again, curious eyes noting that everyone had gone back to their lives, a change in their postures. Their backs straighter.

"I'm exploring." She gave a small clear to her throat, not feeling the need to give him anymore information. He nodded, eyes flicking over to the slim woman who was rounded over her client. She wondered what he was doing in here as well.

"Follow me." He turned to leave, and she was unsure if to follow his instructions. Yes, he was yielding, but he also had a dangerous air about him. Almost like a cologne the Dauntless wore, some of them overusing the scent in the mornings and nauseating her, i.e., Josiah.

She shook her head slightly, and watched him walk away from her, tight black trousers paired with combat boots that only put more stress on whatever surface his tank of a body landed on. Giving in, she jogged to meet up with him realizing her shoes were the cause of her misfortunes. Stone and wood weren't the best match.

"Our next meeting isn't scheduled until two days from now," she came to a halt, he had turned in the middle of the corridor, arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm aware, but you're exploring a dangerous place, all by yourself," he was smirking again, throat muscles had danced as he spoke, telling her she couldn't take care of herself. He was right, she was exposed here. Talking and logic didn't work as well as punches.

"Yes, I understand Dauntless can be tricky." She didn't need a lecture from someone her age. "Do you have a question? Concern?" She raised a full eyebrow, lips downturned and eyes filled with boredom.

"No, I was going to offer showing you around, but if you're intent on getting yourself maimed here…" he had started walk away.

"I'd like a tour, though in the future you should be clearer when ordering people around." She stopped him. He was quick to roll his eyes and proceed down the stairs, with her hot on his heels.

* * *

He didn't talk as he gave her a "tour." She summed up most of the areas in her head, calling the area where the tattoo parlor and other shops were "the mains," and the terrifying water way "death drop," all in all it was more fun for her. Though she wouldn't be able to navigate as fluidly as he did throughout the compound, she was sure she had seen enough to not get lost. After a while, she mentioned being low on brain food and they made their way to the dinning hall.

"Kitchens are that way, they can give you what you need," she nodded, glancing over to where he had pointed.

"So, your preference is for women?" She looked back at him, after taking note of the kitchens and which of the workers looked the friendliest. She didn't want to have to go through Max to stock her refrigerator every time.

"That's an interesting, albeit invasive question," she responded, smiling at him. He waited patiently for the answer, but she had already moved onto surveying the large space. Rows of long tables with matching wood seats were in the middle, food splayed on the tables as well the buffet style kitchen counter. It all looked so heavy, meats interspersed with muffins and cake. How was this remotely nutritionally balanced?

"They'll have some fruits, as well as some eggs in the mornings," he could read her mind, "and it'll be in your best interest to wear trainers if you've got them." Two for two. She nodded in thanks.

He seemed to want to say something else, but instead reciprocated her nod and walked over to a table. She made her way to the kitchen, speaking with one of the cooks who informed her that her shipment from Erudite wouldn't arrive for another week, due to some issues within the Factionless. He couldn't spare supplies. Frustrated, she looked around, placing Eric. She realized he had been aware of this, obviously enjoying the fact she had not been privy to this vital information.

Straddling a bench, Eric faced a man who was about his height, with brown hair and had a clear dislike for him. The man sat hunched over, while Eric kept his back straight, hands in between his massive thighs. Eric glanced at her, and eventually the unknown man turned towards her direction as well, an eyebrow raised in speculation.

 _Enough of feeling like a bug_ , she calmly walked over to their table, sitting across from the man, and next to Eric. She smiled, extending a hand to the unknown man, "Andrea," the man took her hand, firmly shaking it, which she was grateful for.

"Four." The man, Four, was a grunter. He was in the middle of chewing some type of meat, she guessed red, and she idly wondered why they had chosen a meat that slowed down the digestive system. Looking down on the table, she reached over and grabbed a hamburger, sans bun, and some condiments. Ketchup was high in sugar, and mustard was high in salt, so either way she figured her stomach would be in a downward spiral for the next day or so. Or a week, if she couldn't figure out a way to expedite her shipment without looking like a spoilt child.

"Shipment delayed?" Eric asked, the smirk back on his face.

"Yes, thank you for letting me waste my time in asking," she said, drawing a circle on the patty with ketchup, and another smaller one in the middle composed of mustard. Four was looking at her oddly, and she ignored him whilst placing some pickles in a similar pattern in between the ketchup and mustard. Fork and knife in hand, she started in what some would consider a proper dinner.

"What do you do, Four?" She asked, after swallowing a bite that was surprisingly delicious. She guessed it was the fats.

"I work in the control room," it clicked in her mind that Four would be the initiate trainer, along with Lauren who she had yet to meet. He was handsome as well, smaller frame still holding onto a great amount of muscle.

"I'll be working with you during the initiate trainings, observing them to see how and if the current weaponry you possess needs any redesigning," she paused, watching Four spear another patty, a smile forming on her face as she saw him drawing a circle with his mayonnaise, _full of fats_ , she thought.

"Is there a particular reason why you dislike Four?" Eric had long since left, an event which visibly relaxed Four.

"That's an awfully truthful observation for an _Erudite_ ," he smirked.

"That's an awfully astute observation for _Dauntless_ " she smiled back. Deciding she enjoyed Four, what little she knew of him, she was amused by his reactions to Eric. Perhaps he could be a trustworthy source here in this snake maze, as Jacob had said.

"Our dislike for each other goes back, he ended up second best in our class." This made him happy, she noted. She'd keep this little morsel of information close.

"If you were the top initiate, why aren't you in a leadership position? Surely sitting in a control room for hours, while interesting for people watching, is a waste of your talents?" That didn't make him happy, the firm press of his lips back. She stared at him, wondering what had made him close up, but figured it wasn't something she needed to care about.

"I'm perfectly content where I am." With that he left.

She sat a few moments longer at the table, and was about to leave when she spotted Josiah glaring at her from another row, gripping his knife a little too tight and upright for her liking. Ignoring the dread the scene gave her, she gathered more patties, smothered them in condiments, and headed back to her loft.

* * *

The climb back up to her loft was exhaustive. Running on flat lands was a different kind of endurance than climbing up the many stairs and elevated rock formations. Now that she was more acquainted with the compound, she would have to figure out the best way to get runs in.

Huffing, she placed the foods inside her refrigerator. She slipped on some running tights, and put on her trainers. She had a marvelous idea to protect her from collapsing to and from the dining hall. She'd run up the stairs, simultaneously getting her body acclimated, while dealing with her small fear of heights.

Facing fears was all the rage at Dauntless, no?

* * *

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	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

* * *

She was drunk.

Not sure how she got here, but yet…

She was.

Here.

Drunk.

At Dauntless.

An Erudite.

Drunk.

She swayed to the thumping bass, a glass in hand like a lifeline, keeping her afloat until logic and reason would bring her back to shore. The practical her wanted to take some sort of remedy to bring her back to earth (and if not, she'd settle for the compound), yet the side of her which had swallowed a couple of shots wanted to never come back.

She figured it began after Four had informed her that he had seen her running stairs. She hadn't been aware of his role in Dauntless, of his surveillance work. A control room could signify different jobs, she had only joked about his potential people watching. She couldn't exactly place where her anxiety arose following that development, but she tampered it down until one of the Dauntless excitedly told her there was to be a party that evening, to celebrate something or other.

Leaning against the mezzanine railing, she watched the languid, sexual movements of the people below. She sipped her unassuming water while others indulged in various dark and light liquids, becoming more fluid as the night flew by. She remembered judging the sliding bodies as unnecessary, as her Erudite mind traditionally would; unnecessary and fleeting, the pit of her stomach caving as she observed their freeness.

It's not that the sensations were anything new. Jacob had once procured a bottle of pale alcohol, and they had, in a giggly mess, taken down the bottle. However, she couldn't remember all the other urges arising as they were now. Her inner thighs tingled and her breath hitched whenever she watched one of the black and red clad bodies grind on the other, be it woman or man alike.

Traditionally, sexual urges were discussed away in a clinical fashion, aimed to ensure advancement through favorable coupling and thus the betterment of humankind. The lack of stiff, starched blue and white told her that this was not the aim here. Some slow song was turned on, mixed smoothly with the previous song. The bass became deeper, and after one last logical argument, she caved along with her stomach and forgot.

* * *

She awoke, throat tight and dry. She vaguely remembered Four escorting her to her room, chuckling as she unabashedly told him her state was partially his fault. She would give anything to also remember his reaction.

Her body felt rougher than that one time with Jacob, not having experienced the churning of her insides and hopes that the ceiling would give way and allow the rain outside to saturate her shriveled body. Tilting her head seemed a chore, and she settled for being at a loss on the day, the time, or if she had a meeting to attend. The latter caused her the most anxiety, considering the Dauntless leadership rarely called meetings with any proper warning. They seemed to be a scream first, then act type of people.

 _'Our next meeting isn't scheduled until two days from now,' she came to a halt…_

A low moan of contentment escaped her, as she held onto the knowledge that she could stay in bed, fire off some correspondences from the privacy of her loft, and eat day-old red meat. She had never been so thankful for meaningless fats.

* * *

She had weaved in and out of sleep for hours. Her body ached as she got up from the bed, particularly her right side, under the ribs. She wondered if she had been dancing, or if she had leaned a little too much on the iron. She hadn't really remembered seeking out the alcohol either. She had broken (of the many) Erudite protocols, which required upmost composure. She realized, and hoped, the amount of people who had seen her fall from grace, as she was dubbing it in her mind, were Four and possibly one other person. Maybe even _just_ Four, if he was the one who supplied the liquor. Though, he didn't exactly seem like the type to have fun.

She moved around the loft with even less grace, stumbling a bit and cursing the cold stone floors. Her own body temperature was unable to regulate in her current state, and she trembled and turned on the tap as hot as it could get, shaking with her arms crossed over her chest in front of the shower. She had never been happier that Dauntless did not provide bathtubs. She wasn't sure how apt she would be at standing on porcelain without falling down. She all but ran into the shower once the steam began to show. She focused solely on the warmth, relaxation, and realization that she just really couldn't remember much of last night.

Pulling on some thicker blue pants, and her jacket she set out with one intent: find Four and figure things out. Not bothering with the withering meat in her fridge, she stepped into her corridor, locked the three deadbolts, and tried her best not to get lost.

* * *

He was sitting in the "Pit," munching away at something that vaguely looked like it would finally make her stomach turn itself inside out. The way down had been lubricant enough. Though she had just arrived, she desperately missed brain food and overall lighter indulgences. She would even settle for some fizzy pop.

"Mornin' sunshine," Four smirked at his food, a hamburger, "or should I say good evening?"

Looking up at her pale face, he grabbed an extra plate and piled some starches on it, and chuckled again as she sat and refused it. Shaking his head, he pulled an even smaller plate from one of the piles, and shifted onto it a large slice of what she knew to be the legendary chocolate cake. Jacob had been very keen on getting details on it.

"That is too heavy," she said while grabbing a fork, and picking in between the layers of chocolate frosting, bits of flour and sugar and heavy cream sticking onto it. Pulling the fork to her mouth, she allowed it to pry open her lips and slip inside, instantly regretting the action. Closing her eyes in utter pleasure, she opened them to see that Eric had joined their table, sitting next to Four (who seemed about to lose it), and was staring intently at her, fork now downward in her grip.

"This is dangerous," she spoke towards Four, who under other circumstances would've given her a small smile. All she got was a low grunt. Another content moan escaped her, as her eyes flicked over to Eric, that smirk present as ever on his smooth face. She hadn't noticed the black piercings stuck in his eyebrow, or the buzzed hair on either side of his blonde poof.

"Be careful, as a brainiac you'd probably gain weight if you keep…enjoying…our cake like that," Eric said, the observation so astute it made her want to growl. The lack of running, paired with these sugary treats would only lead to tighter clothing. While at first it would make her fit in with the women and men who flaunted their flat bellies and carved-from-marble arms, it would eventually turn into not having any clothing to wear and no Jacob to sew for her.

Four nodded, and informed her he needed to speak to her in private, causing Eric's jaw to clench as he watched both of them retreat from the table. She noted that not even the clenching on his jaw was a bad look on him.

* * *

"We need to talk about last night," Four said as he climbed back up to her floor, but instead of going right towards her door, he clipped a left. Pulling a key from his pocket, he opened up what she assumed was his apartment. What greeted her, however, was a room full of display screens that showed black and red clad people running around.

"Do you remember?" Four turned towards her, after a quick scan at all the screens, eyebrows raised and a small frown on his face. Tilting her head, she contemplated the question. That was her intent in speaking with him as well. Shaking her head, she waited for him to deliver his findings. After all, why else would she be here?

"It would seem someone slipped you something," he had walked back to the screens, possibly as an excuse to keep himself busy while telling her something so personal.

"That is, if you can't remember, and in the state I found you, it seemed you needed quite a push to reach that level." She moved to his side, where he typed a command and pulled up a digital file.

It showed her, water in hand, leaning over the railing and watching the people below. The area she was standing was poorly lit, and she had felt at the time it shouldn't have been an issue. She had figured all the snakes were in their pit. A figure had moved closer to her, shielding her and themselves from the screen. After a few moments, the figure retreated, leaving her with what some would think was a calm exterior, but only she could notice the slight shake in her hands, the glass now held tighter. She softly passed her fingers over the bottom of her ribs, wincing at the tender flesh now pressed against her shirt.

"Four, can you look at this?" She removed her jacket, folding it and placing it over the desk. Glancing over to the screens, she noted that none of them were trained on the room they were currently in. She hesitated when she untucked her shirt, not wanting Four to really find anything.

After a deep breath and a seconds long pep talk, she pulled her button down up to below her breasts, baring her right side. Four had moved towards her, his face scrunched, lips open as he started at the affronted area.

She noticed Four had sucked in a breath, and his eyes flickered up to hers, then back down to her ribs. Or rather, underneath her ribs. She obviously had ignored the ache this morning, her body too sore in every spot to consider any of them individually. Glancing down, she saw the large bruise, spanning across where her liver was located. It looked like a large hand print.

She jumped as she felt Four's fingers gently stroke the area, and he quickly removed them as she hissed in pain from the contact. She ignored the other feelings that sprang up after. Shaking his head once again, Four signed and regarded her silently, waiting for her to speak.

"It-it seems my idea to not spend my time here as an eremite is a faulty one," she gave a dry laugh, exterior trying to remain calm and collected as she gathered all the facts. To start: she had been assaulted. The end. With no recollection of who she had spoken to, it just made it all the more chilling.

"I can only protect you so much here," smirking, he added, "not that you're the type of person to need protection, but as you can see some of us are pretty ruthless." She nodded, she understood. Tempering her pride in this instance would mean survival.

"In Dauntless, it is survival of the fittest," biting her lip, she held his gaze, telling him all the things he already knew.

"I'm certainly not the fittest." Growing upset, she thought of the most logical, theoretically sound solution. "Four, I'd like you to train me. This will not happen again."

Four's face shifted from the pained expression, into a small smirk that only Dauntless could pull off. She realized he was making a small show of debating the request, probably going through some logistics, yet she knew that he would agree. He wasn't the fun type, but she figured he felt more compassion than his brutish counterparts.

He gave a small nod.

"We can start right away."


End file.
